


overtime (anytime)

by Bazzys



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, M/M, Painplay, Semi-Public Sex, seungjoon's slutty red shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazzys/pseuds/Bazzys
Summary: Jaeyoung doesn't mind a little overtime when it's spent with Seungjoon
Relationships: Lee Seungjoon | J-Us/Shim Jaeyoung | Wyatt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	overtime (anytime)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pen15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pen15/gifts).



> please heed the tags!!
> 
> back again with this short drabble prompted by pen, thanks for enabling me during wine time! this was such a fun piece to write, and finished in an hour? 
> 
> disclaimer (in honour of pen): this is a work of fiction with fictional characters based on celebrity personas. i in no way think that seungjoon would ever let someone pull out that fast.

The halls are usually busy during promotions, bustling with staff and other idols rushing to get ready on time for their stages, milling about on a thousand different schedules. The noise is more often than not loud enough to not hear your own thoughts, even less the instructions of the managers clinging to their sides and leading them to where they need to be.

But not tonight.

Tonight the halls are empty; cold and sort of unreal, like those dreamlike moments when you’re not sure if reality is actually real, or those minutes between night and morning that feel timeless. The carry a sense of misplacement, as if something familiar suddenly is obscure or throwing you into a strange loop of deja vu. 

The halls would be empty, if not for the voices echoing through them, bouncing off the walls like rubber bullets. Tracing their path you’d be led towards a dressing room, unoccupied except for the two-in-one snacc deal on the floor.

Jaeyoung looms over Seungjoon, whose ankles are connected behind his back and urging him to slam harder against his scrawny hips. Their skin creates obscene slaps, the sheer sound of them easily heard from several doors down, closely accompanied by Seungjoon’s high-pitched moans punched out of him with each thrust. It’s nowhere near comfortable, the linoleum floor unyielding against Seungjoon’s back, but he can’t find it in him to care or even acknowledge when Jaeyoung pulls back to slam right back in and hits his prostate with expert precision.

They’re both panting hard, hot and heavy wisps of breath mixing in the minimal space between them. Although their lips aren’t touching, they can still taste each other on the tip of their tongues, barely there yet intoxicating enough to tease them closer to the edge of the abyss. There’s no words spoken, at least not of the verbal kind; they communicate through touches and body language, a dance they’re all but unfamiliar with at this point. 

Jaeyoung digs his fingernails into the soft skin of Seungjoon’s hips, pinning them down harder and unrelentlessly battering his prostate. It hurts, just enough to make Seungjoon frustrated without getting off, until Jaeyoung changes his grip. He forces Seungjoon’s legs away from where they’re squeezing his waist, lifting one onto his shoulder and forcing the thigh of the other up to Seungjoon’s chest. The stretch burns and Seungjoon moans at the pleasurable pain. 

Jaeyoung rocks into him once again, and the new angle makes Seungjoon’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He chokes on his own spit, not being able to breathe for a moment until Jaeyoung drags against his insides again, warm and raw and filling him until his brain flatlines. The body weight on top of his pins Seungjoon’s shoulder blades to the floor harsh enough to definitely leave bruises for the next week, but with every unforgiving thrust Jaeyoung brings him closer to the euphoria he seeks. 

And when Jaeyoung unhesitantly slaps Seungjoon’s straining cock between his legs, the sharp sting of it hurtles him across the finish line. 

Seungjoon comes, making a mess of himself just as Jaeyoung’s rhythm falters and starts stuttering. He rides his own orgasm out, not paying any mind to Seungjoon’s whines of overstimulation even when it causes tears to flow down cheeks. Pulling out, Jaeyoung leaves a discarded Seungjoon on the floor and enters the bathroom to clean himself up, locking the door behind him to punctuate the lack of invitation. 

Seungjoon stays on the floor, even as the shower turns on. He hurts. It hurts to move, hurts to think. It hurts to feel, so he doesn’t, and he stays there to drown in his miserable state, left to eat his own slowly drying cum. He’s out of it, and it takes him too long to realize that Jaeyoung is back, and even longer that he’s being wiped down carefully with a wet towel.

Still in a haze, he lets his head drop back to the floors, only softened slightly by the thin fabric of his slutty red shorts. “We should do this again.”

Jaeyoung only hums in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he tugs at Seungjoon’s wrists to pull him into an upright sitting position. "Definitely,” he whispers against his lips, kissing him tenderly.

Seungjoon melts into it, easily allowing Jaeyoung to slip his tongue past his lips, with only one thought going through his mind.

His shoulders are definitely gonna bruise.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my tipsy mess, please leave a kudo and a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> as always, you can hit me up on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BazzysAO3?s=09)


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